


Drip

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 17:17:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13194855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Ignis tries to prevent Noctis from catching a cold.





	Drip

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fair warning, I’m only on Ch3 in the game. Special thanks to saurgristiel for betaing for me!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The rain’s coming down hard, but Noctis is still trudging on, so of course the rest of them all have to follow. Prompto has his vest up above his head, trying vainly to protect his hair, and Gladiolus keeps shaking out his head like a dog after a bath. Ignis wishes he could whip out an umbrella to hold above his prince’s head, but knowing Noctis, he’d probably just warp away from it. 

While Prompto sneezes through complaints and Gladiolus grumbles, Noctis seems to have no trouble hunting down their prey. Ignis has suggested going back several times, both as casual remarks and firm advice, but Noctis has ignored them both, as he’s so wont to do. Ignis keeps a sharp eye on him anyway. It doesn’t help that he left his jacket in the car and refuses to go back for it. His black undershirt is sucked against his skin, drenched and glistening, soaked right through to the very bone. It makes Ignis frown deeper the further they go. It doesn’t help that he’s running out of dry patches to rub his glasses on.

They take a turn out of the wooded area, out onto the open plains, and that’s even worse—there’s nothing overhead to catching the roaring downpour. Noctis actually slows for a split second, and Ignis sees the subtle shiver snake right down his spine. His hair’s slicked about his face like a drowned rat, but it bobs when his head jerks for a sudden sneeze. That’s the final straw. Ignis surges on a head, cutting in front of him until Noctis stops running. He breathes hard as he looks at Ignis, challenging and defiant, clearly wanting to go on. Ignis never likes getting in his way, but sometimes it’s necessary.

Ignis shrugs off his jacket. It hasn’t fared particularly well, but it’s better than bare arms, so Ignis holds it out to Noctis. The Crownsguard makes its outer garments for all weather. He insists, “You’ll catch a cold, Your Highness. Take this.”

Noctis grunts, “Don’t need it,” just as Ignis thought he would.

Ignis keeps holding it out, repeating, “Take it.”

For a moment, it’s a standoff. Gladiolus and Prompto reach them, Prompto hopping from foot to foot to keep warm. Noctis gives Ignis a petulant sort of look, only a little better than the face he used to make when he was young, trying to will his way out of homework. Ignis cared too much about him to back down then, and he cares even more now. Eventually, he knows Noctis will accept his offering.

Finally, Noctis does. He sighs, but he reaches out, plucking the heavy fabric out of Ignis’ fingers. He drapes it over his own shoulders, and it’s a little long for him, but it’ll do. When they finally get back to town, Ignis will be sure to dry out all of Noctis’ clothes and see to it that he hasn’t caught a cold. Prompto sneezes again. He’s probably already a goner. But Ignis can keep that away from his prince, and he will.

Before they start out again, Noctis does mutter, “Thanks.” His cheeks are a little pink—another new development. He won’t meet Ignis’ eye, but that’s a problem for another time. 

Ignis nods, and they return to running.


End file.
